We crossed the road and hit into the woods going straight west. We knew which way to go because it was when the bell swung up that we got the echo, and because it swung toward the setting sun. Every little while one of us had to climb a tree to see where the sun was. Lucky for us Temple Camp was in that direction, and beside the sun we had the smoke from the cooking shack to guide us. We took turns climbing the trees.
We didn’t play Follow Your Leader because our minds were on rescuing that person who was calling for help.
“I’m glad Temple Camp is in the same direction,” Warde said, “because I’m good and hungry.”
“I’m going to eat dinner and supper all in one when we get back,” Pee-wee said.
“I could eat hardtack or upholstery tacks or carpet tacks or gilt-headed tacks, I’m so hungry,” I said.
“I’d like to have—one—big—chunk—of chocolate cake,” said Garry.
“I’d eat a cake of soap,” I said.
Pee-wee kept trudging along, not saying much; he was thinking about supper, I suppose. He was in a better humor because he knew for sure we were headed for camp. Hervey kept going ahead of us and shinning up trees till he could see the smoke at camp. Every little while we all shouted together but no voice answered.
“The breeze is the other way,” Warde said; “maybe he can hear us even though we can’t hear him. Whoever it is he’s probably lost and rattled. Let’s shout to him to stay where he is. We don’t want both parties moving around, it only doubles the work.”
So we stopped and all crowded together so as to make our voices as much like one voice as we could and shouted “Stay—where—you—are— we’re—coming.”
We listened for a few seconds and then we could hear a voice, very thin and far off. It sounded like R-i-i-i. We guessed it meant “All right.”
We cut through the woods faster after that and pretty soon we called and the voice answered, and so we didn’t have to bother any more climbing trees. We were pretty tired and hungry but I guess we all felt good.
“They’ll never believe all the adventures we had,” Pee-wee panted, “because we can’t prove them. The best way is always to bring back some proof, hey?”
“Did you expect us to bring back the turntable and the sign post and the drawbridge and a couple of West Shore trains?” I asked him.
“In my patrol you have to prove all tests,” he said.
“That’s easy,” I told him, “because no one in that patrol ever passes any tests. All they know how to pass is the eats. Some of them don’t even know enough to pass the time of day.”
“You think you’re so smart,” he said. “Which is better? Some crullers or a scout?”
“Is it a riddle?” I asked him. “Why is a raving raven like a cruller? Because he’s twisted. Ask me another. What’s that got to do with taking tests?”
“When you took Test Four for a second-class scout,” he said, “you tracked half a mile and took a scout with you. I went alone. I tracked half a mile to Johnson’s Bakery and bought ten cents’ worth of crullers for proof. A witness might lie but crullers don’t lie.”
“How many witnesses did you have in the paper bag when you got back?” Garry wanted to know.
“Every test I ever took I brought back the proof,” the kid said. “............